Friday Nights 'Round Here
by Bluest-of-Jayys
Summary: It wasn't often that Tino went out drinking with Mathias, but when he did, Berwald wanted no part of it. Fortunately for Tino, his husband has the patience of a God. SuFin, one-shot.


**Friday Nights 'Round Here**

**NG-H**

It wasn't often that Tino went out drinking with Mathias, but when he did, Berwald wanted no part of it. Not that he wasn't worried about his "wife" or his "friend"; he made sure to text both men every half-hour to make sure they hadn't drunk themselves stupid into a street gutter somewhere. From the replies, he could usually gauge how inebriated which man was: Mathias usually whined about his boyfriend Lukas and Tino's messages were always laced with dirty innuendoes which made Berwald's face flush by just reading them.

So, on Friday night, when Tino had slipped on his shoes, kissed his loving husband on the cheek, and told him he'd be back by ten, Berwald knew what to do. He waved Tino off, wishing him a safe return, sat himself down on the couch, and pulled out his phone to send Tino and Mathias a text, the first one of many. It was short and simple, the same message for both of them: "Stay safe."

After hitting "send", Berwald and Tino's adopted son Peter ran in with their dog Hanatamago. "Did mama go out with Uncle Mathias?" he asked. Berwald nodded in reply. "Okay," Peter said, "I'm going to go watch TV. Tell me when he gets home."

"Wait, I'll join ya." Berwald got up to follow his son into the TV room.

The Friday Night Cable movie playing on the network enraptured Peter, but Berwald was too busy watching the clock to pay attention to it. He launched his second set of messages to Tino and Mathias about half an hour into the movie. The Dane told him to "fuck off" and let him "drink in peace," while the Finn answered, "stop worrying your pretty little head about us~ Love you!"

A half-hour later, it was nearly 9:00, and Peter was dozing on the sofa with Hanatamago curled up next to him as the movie ended. Berwald decided to convey another message to his drunken wife and friend. In reply, he received a long-winded text message from Mathias (split up into four messages by the system), so ridden with typos that he could have typed it with his butt. Berwald sighed. Mathias was already beyond drunk. His phone then buzzed, signaling the reception of Tino's reply. He smiled a little, partially out of relief. Tino seemed almost as intoxicated as Mathias had been, but at least he could still type. Sort of. "Matthdumbass is drrunkk," the message began, "called him a caaab home~ night cut short, b bck in 10? be ready to plaaaay~ love you! ;)"

_Well then,_ thought Berwald, eyes widening.

Another effect alcohol had on Tino was that it made him extremely amorous and sleepy. On more than one occasion, he had tried to play with Hanatamago, snuggle and fawn over Peter, or seduce Berwald, then promptly fallen asleep in the middle of whatever he was doing. It wasn't the most welcome of drunken behavior, but Berwald thanked his lucky stars that that was the extent of his lover's misbehavior. So, as wonderful as having some "fun" with Tino sounded, he knew the man would be out like a light within ten minutes of arriving home.

Loud clatters and a crash into the wooden front door roused father, son, and dog from their dozing. With a cry of "Mama's home!" Peter bounded to the door and opened it, only to be swept up into his mama's strong arms.

"Peter! Honey, I missed you!" He placed slobbery kisses all over the boy's face before he could protest. "Nomnomnomnom... Mama needs his son's love every day!"

"Mama, put me down. You smell funny." He tried to squirm away, only to be held tighter by Tino's incredible strength.

"So mean!" Tino harumphed, finally releasing his son only to pick up his dog. "And how's my baby girl?" He nuzzled Hanatamago's white fur. "Who's a good girl?" he cooed, "Yes you are! Yes you are! You're my good girl! Woof!"

With gentle pressure on Tino's back, Berwald coaxed his wife to release their terrified pooch. He nudged the open door shut with his heel, then motioned for Peter to go upstairs and sleep, Tino leaning on his shoulder giggling the whole while.

Once the room had been voided of people other than the couple, Tino grabbed the sides of Berwald's face and pulled him down into a messy, open-mouthed kiss, clinging onto him as if his life depended on it. Tino's chilled hands wandered all over Berwald's muscled body, creeping up his shirt, groping and feeling around. Truth be told, Berwald found all this unrestrained kissing and touching absolutely hot.

Tino pulled back, kiss-swollen lips upturned. "You're so macho, Ber," he purred, the alcohol slurring his words. "I'll never hand this macho hunk to anyone else..." Stepping away, he grabbed Berwald's hand and determinedly and drunkenly dragged him towards their bedroom. Without bothering to close the door behind him, Tino shoved Berwald down onto the bed.

"Clothes off," he commanded, licking his lips hungrily.

Hesitantly, Berwald complied. He stole a quick glance at the clock. It was nearly ten, why hadn't Tino fallen asleep yet? His hands fumbled with his jean fastenings when Tino got impatient, quickly straddled his lover, and all but tore the hindering pants from him. Now stark naked and pinned to the bed by a very drunk and horny Tino, he searched the other man's face for any signs of weakening before he was in over his head.

"Ooh..." Speaking of head, that was what Tino was giving him. Already hard from kissing, Tino had taken it upon himself to simply plunge down and swallow Berwald's member whole. Damn did the wet heat of his mouth feel good and damn was he talented at using his tongue.

He was almost on the verge of releasing when suddenly the delicious wet heat disappeared and was replaced by the sound of soft snores wafting up from his groin. Tino had fallen asleep, leaving Berwald still painfully erect. Carefully, he hoisted the sleeping man up so that his head rested on a pillow and smiled. He retreated to the bathroom to deal with his "little problem", then returned to the bed and curled up next to Tino. Dealing with his drunken lover had sapped all the energy out of him and he pulled the covers over them and fell asleep.

**XxX**

Tino rolled over, groaning. Everything was dark and his head hurt. Where was he?

Next to him, the bed shifted. Ah, yes, he was at home, in bed, sleeping off another crazy night of drinking with Mathias. He reached over Berwald's sleeping form to grab the small digital alarm clock on his nightstand. The green numbers seared themselves into his retinas: 3:17 AM. What was he doing up at 3:17 AM?

"Are y' awake?"

Tino gave a yelp of surprise before realizing that the low whisper came from Berwald, who rolled over so that he faced him and added, "Guess so."

In his hung-over daze, memories of last night floated through. Coming home completely inebriated, acting like a crazy drunk, then sucking Berwald off. He couldn't remember making him come before he fell asleep, though, unless...

"Oh my God, I'm so sorry!" Tino wailed again, reaching for his lover. "I didn't let you finish, did I? Let me take care of it!"

Berwald placed a light finger over Tino's lips to calm his flailing. "Shh, yer gonna wake Peter up." He draped an arm over Tino, pulling him close and kissing his forehead. "Already took care of it. Yer hung over. Get some sleep."

A pulse of pain throbbed in Tino's head in response and when he lifted an arm to embrace Berwald back, he found it heavy and painful. The effects of his drinking could be felt all the way down to the tips of his toes. Berwald was right, he was in no condition for sex. That didn't negate his guilt, however. There had to be a way to make it up.

"But I wanna make it up to you..." he whined into Berwald's chest.

"You can do it later when yer head ain't killin' ya. Get better, love." He mumbled softly, rubbing small circles between the Finn's shoulder blades, down his spin, settling his hand on Tino's lower back. That seemed to soothe him some, and Tino smiled. He might have jerked the one he loved around a little too much that night, and the extreme depths of Berwald's patience made him feel a sharp pang of guilt, but as long as he could make it up to him, he would be fine. Tino snuggled down deeper into Berwald's warm embrace and breathed, "I love you so much, Ber."

"Love you too," a gentle kiss was pressed to his hair, "sleep well."

"Mmm."

**XxX**

When Berwald woke up later that morning, the sun had risen and Tino's side of the bed was empty. He scratched his head. Despite suffering from the hangover of the century, the Finn had somehow managed to get up before him. He checked the clock on the nightstand: the time was 9:15. He rose out of bed, threw a robe over his shoulders, and padded downstairs. Peeking into the dining room, he saw Peter sitting at the table finishing a plate of waffles.

"Good mornin', Peter. Where's yer mama?" He asked the boy.

"Mornin', papa," Peter answered, "he's in the kitchen."

"Thanks," he leaned down, pecking his son on the forehead. Peter was right, there were shuffles and clatters coming from the kitchen. He peeked in, standing at the doorway.

Tino flitted around the kitchen, his slippers making scuffling noises on the linoleum floor. The room was filled with delicious sights and smells: there were waffles in the toaster, an egg and some bacon on the skillet, and a pot of tea on the stove. Between pulling out a tray from on top of the fridge and grabbing a bottle of syrup, he spotted Berwald standing in the doorway.

"Oh! Berwald!" he exclaimed in surprise, "how long have you been there?"

"Couple minutes," the Swede answered. "What'cha doin'?" he asked.

Tino cast a sidelong glance at the tray and syrup before turning off the stove and replying, "I was gonna make you breakfast in bed to apologize for being such a... Er, brute, last night, but..." he trailed off as strong arms wrapped around him from behind.

"I already forgave ya, but if it makes you feel any better, I'll go back to bed and wait," he mumbled into his lover's ear.

"Mm. It makes me feel loads better. I'll be up soon."

Berwald relinquished his lover and tromped back upstairs, passing Peter on the way, who now sat in front of the TV watching his Saturday morning cartoons.

Back in his room, he tucked himself into bed just as Tino nudged open the door, carrying the tray of food. It looked delicious. He placed the tray over Berwald's lap then slid into bed beside him. "Eat up, made this just for you."

"Thank ya." Berwald smiled at his "wife" before digging in. Tino watched him eat, making quiet conversation.

Finally, when Berwald laid down the fork and knife on the syrup-covered plate and sighed contentedly, Tino spoke up. "Ber?"

"Mm-hmm?" The Swede replied.

"Thank you," he said quietly, "for being so patient with me."

Berwald put an arm around Tino's shoulders. "I love ya, so of course I'll be patient with ya, and when y' stumble home drunk, I'll be there t' carry ya upstairs. 'S what lovers do."

Tino smiled. "I love you too, Berwald."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: I'm not sure if it's apparent, but I really do indeed love Friday nights. This sprouted from a headcanon my friend and I came up with.<strong>

**Honestly, at the moment, I'm suffering from a terrible cold and I'm writing a paper and a chemistry lab report and I'm really truly stressed right now so I thought I'd share some awkward fluff I scribbled out between classes. SuFin is like medicine, they just make everything feel better.  
><strong>


End file.
